Three hours.
Sasha’s been in surgery for three fucking hours.
While Annie was getting discharged, Angelo worked his magic. Or rather he called Uncle Enzo, who called the Governor, who called the director of the hospital, who called the hardass nurse, who finally told me where I could go sit and wait.
That’s it. Just wait. And wait.
I know that Sasha’s in surgery and that it’s critical. But that’s all I know. I’ve tried bullying my way into more information. Begging. Bribing. Ultimately, I was told that there’s no more news to tell until the surgeons finish. So, I have to wait. And hope.
Angelo’s never far away. Even though Randal’s dead, and the threat is gone, Angelo has a full four-man crew with him. That makes five huge men in suits plus me, my all-black tux soaked in blood. Right now we look exactly like the gangster family we’re trying not to be.
But it’s still better than it could have been. Uncle Enzo couldn’t have picked a better week to return to Minneapolis. He has the connections that we need to get through this mess quickly. Without him I’d probably be stuck in a police station answering questions rather than sitting here in the hospital. We turned over all of the security footage from tonight to the police. It’s clearly self-defense. I might’ve gone a little overboard kicking the fucker out the window, but since he didn’t crush anyone when he landed Uncle Enzo will clear me from that too.
Raised voices drag my attention across the room.
Standing from my chair, I see someone pushing through Angelo’s wall of guards. When the man’s face comes into view, I recognize him immediately.
“Let him through.” My words are scratchy but loud enough to be heard.
Special Agent John Clark shrugs off the hand on his arm, then locks eyes with me.
“Vincent Mazzanti.” His tone is ugly. And I deserve it.
John cuts the distance between us in a few long strides. He’s nearly my height, a little thinner, but fit. And he’s pissed.
I expect the punch, but I make no move to block it. I’m so numb already that I hardly feel the knuckles as they connect with my cheekbone.
I don’t block the second hit either.
John’s chest is heaving, more from anguish than exertion.
“Hey!” Angelo shouts, reaching out for John. And I can see at least two of the other guys pulling out their concealed weapons.
“It’s alright.” I hold my hands out. They make no move to back off, so I steel my voice. “Stand down.”
John, completely unconcerned with the danger around him, stays focused on me.
Angelo steps closer. “You sure, boss?”
I use the back of my hand to wipe the blood off my lip. “This is Sasha’s brother.”
Hearing her name, John lets out a pained sound. “I told you what would happen if she got hurt because of you. I fucking told you!” He shoves me with both hands.
I take a step back. I won’t fight him. I won’t even stop him if he tries to kill me. Hell, if I’m the reason that Sasha dies, I’ll invite it.
I choke just thinking of the word. It’s like John can see my thoughts because between one breath and the next, the fight leaves him. And we’re left just standing there, two broken men.
“Which one of you is Vincent?” A new male voice asks.
We all turn to face a doctor, dressed in full surgery scrubs.
“I am.”
John steps up next to me but stays silent.
The doctor runs his eyes over the group of imposing men before focusing back on me. “The bullet caused a lot of internal damage, but she’s stable now and out of surgery…”
I don’t hear anymore. When my back hits the wall, my legs give out. A sob gets stuck in my throat as I slide to the floor. My forehead drops against my knees and I cup my hands behind my head.
She’s alive.
My girl is alive.
